


The Garden

by kensington_queen



Category: Life with Derek
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Future, Christmas Time but its subtle, Established Relationship, F/M, Far Future, I don't know what I just wrote but please enjoy, One Shot, The Author Regrets Nothing, Welcome Home, posted as is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:07:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28181376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kensington_queen/pseuds/kensington_queen
Summary: When I get where I'm going, on the far side of the sky. The first thing that I'm gonna do, is spread my wings and fly...
Relationships: Casey McDonald/Derek Venturi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 27





	The Garden

**Author's Note:**

> _When I get where I'm going,_   
>  _There'll be only happy tears -_
> 
> Summary and above lyrics from Brad Paisley and Dolly Parton's When I Get Where I'm Going
> 
> I don't know what this fic is. It just sort of wrote itself. I'm sorry in advance?! Also posted as is, you know the drill by now! <3

Casey could fly. She soared higher and higher, brushing the clouds with the tips of her fingers. They felt soft to the touch as they caressed her skin, the air around her cool and reassuring. The destinations were limitless. The world opened its arms up in a welcoming gesture for her. How strange then she decided to land on the grass of a familiar brick house on a quiet street that played the backdrop of some of her most vivid memories. It loomed in front of her, unchanged by the passage of time; it beckoned her closer. She found the front door unlocked, the house still and preserved as if her mother and George had only just stepped out for a quick errand.

Sunlight poured in from the windows into the living room, casting a glow on the coffee table where a pile of magazines and newspapers lay dangerously close to the edge. Jackets were messily hung on a peg near the door, a stray hockey stick rested against the wall beside a soccer ball. She paused, taking it all in. Where to go? The kitchen, the backyard, her old room? Photos on the staircase caught her eye; she went slowly up, examining each one. The first year as a blended family, the photo from the summer at Blue Heron with Simon, graduation photos. Each step represented a snapshot into the life Casey lived while under this roof.

The top of the stairs brought Casey staring down the hallway, her bedroom door firmly shut closed. But the next door, Derek’s door, remained slightly open. It took a long moment to make another move. She stared at the door, a rush of memories hitting her all at once. The door called to her, and she took a step towards it before realizing what she had done. Casey pushed it open, curious to see what waited behind it. 

She stumbled through, blinking in surprise to find herself no longer at the house of her teens, but in a beloved shared space of her adulthood. It was exactly as it was in her mind when she thought back to these years, the ones where she found the highest of joys and lowest lows.

It hadn’t been the biggest master bedroom, but it had been the center of laughter and early mornings. Little feet had scuttled across the soft white carpeting, paws had seeked refuge during thunderstorms; the cozy master bathroom with the tub that blew past the budget had been a favored spot to unwind. Casey walked to the windows that were letting in all the natural light. Outside below she could see the garden she loved so much, with its maple trees and the rose bushes she pruned carefully, and the old rusty swing set that once newly shined in the sunshine.

The bed, a king sized one she remembered causing a stupid fight, had the pretty pink and white flower print duvet set she’d found on clearance at a home store. She found herself pulled to it, sitting down and touching the soft fabric before being compelled to lay back and look up at the blue sky visible from the skylight window above. 

Somewhere outside a bird call sang sweetly. A light breeze tickled her face as she closed her eyes, peace settling in. Perhaps it was a moment, or hours, before Casey’s eyes opened again. The room remained light, the sky out the window still the bluest of blues. She stretched, getting up; she felt an urgent tug deep inside that pulled her to the bedroom door. Tentatively Casey stared at it. She wanted to open it. Slowly, her hand rested on the antique doorknob, clutching it tightly. 

She began to turn the handle, but a sudden sound outside the window distracted her, physically pulling her away from the room as it began to twist and expand and shrink. She hurtled through space and time, her eyes closed against the pressure before landing heavily in soft sheets. 

“Mom?” The sound said from above her. “Mom, can you hear me?” Casey fought against the intrusive sound, desperate to get back to the room. “Mom, it’s me.”

But temptation and the urgency in the voice coaxed her to open her eyes. She blinked against the glaring artificial light, gasping for breath before a beeping sound reminded her that she did not need to do it herself. 

A woman, middle aged with curly brown hair and laugh lines on her face sat in a chair beside Casey’s bed. A smile transformed her worried face when blue eyes found her warm brown ones. “Oh, don’t strain yourself Mom,” the woman gently touched Casey’s hand, as she tried to sit up further in bed. “I just wanted to stop by on my way home from work. The holidays this year are making me feel nostalgic. We miss you at home.” 

Casey wanted to reassure the woman beside her, a rush of love blossoming inside as she took in familiar features on someone else’s face. But words were trapped, she found. A pathetic little sound squeaked out, embarrassing Casey. The woman smiled kindly. She reached out to move stray hairs out of Casey’s face, in a practiced patience that reminded her strongly of Nora. 

“Oh, I found this Mom in a photo album. I think you should have it,” the woman said, reaching into her purse and pulling out a framed photograph. She flipped it around so Casey could see. “That’s the Christmas we got Molly. Look how little Emma is holding her, the puppy is as big as her arm! Jacob’s hair is really floppy in this picture like Dad’s was. And now,” the woman giggled, “he hardly has any hair left! Anyways,” she set the frame gently down on the bedside table so that Casey could view it without straining her neck too much. “I’ll leave this here for you. I’m going to bring the kids to visit when they’re all home from school, they’re all in finals week…”

Casey listened patiently as long as she could to Atlas’s art project that got a rave review from his professor, to Lennon’s promotion, and Aurora’s internship. Her eyes drifted somewhere between it all, a tiredness falling over her like an old friend. 

“Let me read to you,” the woman’s voice quietly said, sounding faraway. “I think we left off here.. Oh, yes, Elizabeth just arrived at Netherfield Park with her family…”

+

There were roses, red ones, surrounding Casey while she enjoyed the sunshine and clear sky above. A gentle breeze blew, rustling the trees of the yard. The joy of gardening found her unexpectedly, catching her by surprise. Pretty flowers always were appreciated, but the task of tending a garden of her own had never appealed until she found that days were long without something to care about. 

The red roses became another source of motivation, and the kitchen garden one of pride. She became a gardener. It comforted her to be surrounded by the beauty she nurtured. Hours could be spent in the garden if she wasn’t careful. A straw hat shielded her sensitive skin from the sun, dirtied gloves lay waiting to be used. 

She relaxed, patient and unhurried to do any specific thing. In a basket on the blanket there were sandwiches waiting, but Casey could not recall making them. They looked delicious, and she was tempted to pick one up and eat, even though she wasn’t particularly hungry. She looked up at the white clouds gently passing by in the sky, trying to seek out shapes before closing her eyes to enjoy the warmth. 

A shadow eventually fell over the blanket, blocking the light. “Oh, are those cucumber sandwiches? I love those,” her mother’s soft voice broke the peaceful silence of the garden. Casey jumped up, shocked. Nora smiled, looking exactly as remembered. Her dark locks were loose, sunglasses perched upon her head. She wore a casual sundress with a shawl elegantly draped across her shoulders. Nora embraced her oldest daughter, engulfing her in warmth. “Casey,” she whispered, pulling away in order to carefully study the face looking back at her. 

“Mom?” Casey touched her mother’s cheek. “Are you really here?” 

“Of course I am,” Nora offered a gentle smile. She looked around the garden with great interest. “Wherever ‘here’ is. It’s lovely.”

“It’s my garden,” Casey said, gesturing to her to sit down on the picnic blanket. “Those are my prize roses,” she nodded towards them. “I can spend hours outside here, daydreaming and reading with a cup of tea in my hand.”

“You could never keep a plant alive,” Nora wryly replied. “I’m impressed.”

Casey shrugged modestly. “Motivation is powerful. And not to mention, when there’s lots of time at hand, practice makes perfect.”

Nora nodded in understanding. 

“Where’s George?” Casey asked, curious. “Dad?” 

“Elsewhere,” Nora answered simply. “Are you going to eat those sandwiches? Shame to let them go to waste.” Casey handed her the basket. “Oh, thank you.” Nora bit into one of the sandwiches with a sigh of happiness. “Delicious.”

They sat in companionable silence. Another breeze went through the garden, causing Nora’s hair to dance with it. 

“Mom,” Casey started after a few moments. “Are you here for me?”

Nora smiled serenely. “If you want me to be,” she said. “But I don’t think so. I think I’m here to let you know I am close by. I have always been near, Casey. I never really left, even if it felt like it. I’m with you now, here or there.”

“I don’t want to go back there,” Casey looked away, gazing at her roses. Was it the trick of the light or did their shade seem more vivid? The sweet fragrant aroma reached her nose, intoxicating her senses. “I’m restricted,” Casey sadly said, feeling rather pitiful for herself. “And it’s lonely.”

“I’m with you,” Nora repeated, touching her hand. “I’m with you now. You’re not alone.” 

“It feels like it though,” Casey whispered. “Sometimes I wish I could talk to you and hear your voice back. It was so hard when you left us. I couldn’t go to your grave for the longest time. I’m so sorry.”

“Oh honey I always heard you,” Nora sighed. “A grave is a place for the living. I was never wondering why you didn’t visit it. I wasn’t there, hanging around. I was, however, there for all the important moments, and watching over the crib of Isabel when she was born. I watched her during the night and soothed her to sleep when you were sick and the other children had the flu too. All the weddings, and the graduations, and the school plays. I never have once missed them, even if it felt like I did.”

“Can you hold me, Mom? I miss your hugs,” Casey asked, tears catching her by surprise. “Please?”

Her mom nodded, wrapping up Casey into her arms as if she were once more a little girl. A hand rubbed her back soothingly while the other held her close. Casey’s found herself lulled by the rhythmic rise and fall of her mother’s chest. 

“I’m here,” Nora whispered. “I’m here.”

+

“We’re here,” another voice said, waking her up. A bespectacled and gray haired Simon sat in the chair beside her bed, an iPad in his hand. “The Leaf's won against Vancouver in overtime last night. I’m sure Der had something to do with that.”

A snort of laughter broke out on the other side of Casey. She turned her head as much as she could be allowed, given the fact there were tubes hooked up to various areas of her body. Marti grinned. “Casey, if you don’t want to talk hockey I can certainly still throw a solid punch. Just because a lady can barely speak doesn’t mean she wants to hear sports stats, Si.”

Simon rolled his eyes. “It keeps her fiery, which means it keeps her here with us longer.”

“Br, br, brat,” Casey hoarsely whispered. It hurt to do that, but she needed to tell her youngest sibling off. Marti burst into laughter. 

“Ooh, even now she’s keeping you checked - no, that’s not a sports pun Si! - put that damn iPad away, she doesn’t want to see pictures of your hip replacement surgery.”

“She might,” Simon grumbled. “It took six months to fully recover, you’d think in this day and age that would be a minor thing. But nope, still living in the dark ages apparently.”

“Speaking of which, Jesus Christ Casey, what is this shit they’re feeding you here? I thought this was a fancy rich people home. This jello is giving me flashbacks to Thompson High. God, that was a century ago.”

“Literally,” Simon laughed before clutching his hip. “That hurts now when I laugh. Being old is the worst.”

Marti shook her head. “Some tact, Si. Some of us present are considered older than old.”

“Oh are you including yourself in that, because you look positively frightful. What would Dad say about that pink hair?”

“He’d say he endured worse with me,” Marti rolled her eyes. “And shut up, I’m nearly 80, I’ve earned the right to be the eccentric old woman in the neighborhood. The kids on my street are convinced I’m a witch.”

“What, you aren’t?” Simon mockingly replied. “My grandkids think you’re the lady in the Wizard of Oz.”

“The Wicked Witch of the West, hopefully. Not Glinda.”

“But of course,” Simon said, laughing. “But then again it’s the remake, not the original from our parents childhood. Though,” he paused, thinking it over. “That movie was ancient for them when they were kids, so…”

Casey’s laughter sounded like a strange huff lately, but she did her best to convey her amusement at her siblings back and forth. 

“See, Casey agrees with me,” Simon smugly said, leaning back in his chair. “Right?”

“She agrees you're still an idiot,” Marti cheerfully shot at him. “Venturi genes cancel out the McDonald wisdom that comes with age.”

“Try telling Isabel and Emma that,” Simon countered. “Jacob, well…”

“Is Jacob,” Marti finished his sentence, laughing again. “You were the boy experiment, Jacob was the final result.”

“Gross, we have different parents,” Simon made a face. “That joke is still not funny several decades later.”

“Casey, our brother just insulted your only son.”

“No I didn’t!”

“Did too!”

“Did not - oh crap,” Simon apologetically smiled at the annoyed nurse that poked her head in through the doorway. “Sorry! Were we being loud again? I have a hearing aid you see…”

“Please be mindful, Mr. Venturi. There’s other residents on this floor,” the nurse exasperatedly reminded them. “How long has she been awake?” 

“A few minutes at least,” Marti told her, watching as the nurse fluffed the pillows and adjusted the bed’s angle. “I think she’s practically fallen asleep again despite us being here.”

“Hmm,” the nurse glanced over Casey, who’s eyes were closed again. “Poor thing has a hard time staying awake nowadays. Her children come by almost every day to read to her and talk while she does.”

Marti and Simon exchanged a significant look. They were all too aware of their sister’s fragile health. They had started to visit weekly shortly after Casey’s last hospitalization, when they weren’t sure if the recovery would be a full one. Their nieces and nephew assured them it was a source of happiness for their mother to have them there, bickering and joking like old times. Everyone lived on borrowed time, especially Casey. 

“Let me read sports,” Simon pulled out his ipad again, fidgeting with it to find an article. “Cassian got traded to another team, I think she’d want to hear about her great-nephew and grandson being on the same NHL team together.”

“Wait I didn’t know this,” Marti said, gasping. “Cassian and Phoenix on the same team, wow! The Venturi side strikes its dominance again.”

“There’s articles talking about the Venturi legacy,” Simon cheerfully said. “About Derek’s Stanley Cup wins, my five wins -” 

“You never did let him live down the fact you had more wins,” Marti interjected, rolling her eyes. “Show off.”

“ - and there’s talk about what a powerhouse the team is going to be now. Most expensive trade deal in history.”

“It’ll pay off,” Marti automatically said. “Say, did they make the jersey yet for Cassian? We need to order them for the whole family.”

“I already did,” Simon chuckled. “We’ll add it to the wall for Casey.” He nodded towards the framed pictures and jerseys on the wall of her room. Despite her no sports talk rule, no one else had been prouder and more supportive of the family’s NHL success than her. 

“I knew you were smart,” Marti replied. “Go on, read the article for her. Maybe then we can switch to the book Isabel has been reading.”

Simon agreed. “Okay. Here it is. Cassian Venturi, the Vancouver Canucks left-wing and member of the legendary Venturi family, has just made history by being traded to join his cousin, Phoenix T Venturi….”

+

She sat back in the garden, staring at her reflection of the fountain pool. Her garden in real life never had a fancy fountain, but she always wanted one, and now somehow she did. Fairy lights illuminated the space above her, creating a romantic atmosphere. The sky above was a velvet black and dotted with stars, the moon impossibly close as if she could reach her hand up and touch it. 

The water of the fountain was still in the breezeless night. Casey leaned further down to gaze into it, struggling to understand who she was seeing. An old lady stared back at her, white hair and wrinkles and laugh lines gracing her face. Casey didn’t feel old, not in the quiet moments when her mind felt sharp and the body aches rested their torment. 

It seemed unfair that she reached old age when so many of her family and friends did not, their light diminishing too soon. She touched the water, sending a ripple through her reflection until it settled again, this time showing herself as she remembered to be. Brunette tresses, a smooth complexion, the youthful glow every twenty-something took for granted before they suddenly woke up one day resembling someone they don’t recognize.

Casey looked away from the untruthful image, her eyes going to the stars instead. Always the romantic, the night sky never lost its wonder for Casey. She wished that she could share the view. But no one came, and so she admired it alone, all the while sending a silent signal out into the universe that someone, a particular someone, would join her.

+

Someone was sitting on her bed, light as a feather and very still as she slept. Casey could sense it. “Casey,” Lizzie said. “Wake up.”

“Hmmm,” she mumbled, turning into her pillow. Casey tried to pull the blanket up higher to hide under, but it refused to budge. “Get off, Liz.”

“Nah,” Lizzie annoyingly replied in the smug way only a little sister could. “You have to wake up.”

“No I don’t,” Casey whined. “It’s too early. I get to sleep in. Now go away, go bug Edwin.”

“Edwin is already awake,” Lizzie replied. “And he’s not here. Plus you sleep in, like, all the time. Aren’t you tired of being tired?”

“Ugh,” Casey pulled the pillow over her face, blocking out the noise. 

“You’re making this more difficult than it needs to be,” Lizzie dramatically sighed. “I’ll tickle you. Don’t think I’ve forgotten my tricks to get you awake.”

Casey sat up, glaring. Bright sunlight framed her sister, making it hard to see until her eyes had a chance to adjust. Lizzie’s smug look came into view after a few blinks. 

“Fine, I’m awake,” Casey grumpily hugged her pillow. She looked around, noticing she was back in her bedroom in the condo the McDonalds had called home after her parents’ divorce. The room seemed a lot smaller than she recalled, and far more girlish. Stuffed animals she forgot existed lined her shelves, butterfly stickers decorated the wall in pinks and greens and the shade of blue that had been popular in the early naughts. 

“I don’t remember this room being so…,” Lizzie trailed off, trying to find the right word. “So this. Your room in London is what I think of when I remember childhood.”

“I don’t know why we’re here,” Casey admitted. “I haven’t thought of this place in years.”

“Memories sneak up on us,” Lizzie said, shrugging. “Come on, I want a smoothie.” She hopped off the bed, waiting by the door for Casey to stretch and follow. “Ah, this is truly trippy,” Lizzie stopped suddenly halfway down the hallway. The kitchen was the one back in London, the one where they spent countless mornings eating breakfast before school and where Simon learned to throw food before upgrading to a ball, breaking several lamps and vases over the years. 

“The kitchen in London was always more family centric,” Casey said, rifling through the fridge for almond milk while Lizzie got out the fruit and blender. “I think I’ve blocked out the sterile kitchen of the condo. It was always so… tidy.”

“Am I hearing this correctly? You, Casey, didn’t like the neatness of our condo? You always complained about the messiness of this house.”

Casey set the almond milk down on the kitchen island. “That was me as a child. Messy houses are filled with life. I had a mental breakdown the day the final kid moved out and it was just me and…” She trailed off, clamping her mouth shut. “Anyways,” she said, watching as Lizzie got the smoothie ingredients together. “A neat house devoid of life is rather sad.”

Lizzie nodded as the blender whirled to life. She poured the green blend into glasses, handing one to Casey. They sat together, side by side, on the barstools. Only when her glass was half emptied did Casey speak. 

“I’m happy to see you Lizzie,” she turned to look at her sister, carefully looking her over. Lizzie’s skin was a healthy shade of pink, her eyes clear and bright. Her hair was longer again, with volume and shine. The thinness of before had been replaced with healthy fat, and she seemed to be in peak athletic form once more if the strong muscles showing from her t-shirt gave any indication. 

Lizzie beamed a smile back. “Me too, Casey. I missed you. And,” she paused, looking down at her hands. “I wanted to thank you for taking in Hazel and Reid. They had such a great childhood because of you two and I went peacefully knowing they were loved and cared for.”

Casey blinked back the tears threatening to spill out, wiping them away. “You don’t need to thank me,” Casey whispered. “Those two were such a joy to have with us!”

“They’ve grown up so well,” Lizzie proudly said, a watery smile gracing her face. I watch over them, you know. I saw all of Hazel’s rebellious phase, and then when she met Josh,” Lizzie smirked a little. “I had a helping hand in that, sending him to her. He’s her perfect match in every way.”

“I think her rebellious phase made us go gray sooner,” Casey sniffled, laughing. “But she bought that little farm in Alberta and has really blossomed. She makes homemade soaps and beauty products, and does a lot of her own food growing.”

“She is who I once thought I would be,” Lizzie admitted, sipping on her smoothie. “And Reid is a carbon copy of their father, but without the emotional baggage and fear of commitment. I’m so proud of both of them.”

“Reid brings his little girls to visit me,” Casey told her sister. “They bring me drawings and they’re all hung up on my wall. Ellie looks just like how you did at her age.”

“I know,” Lizzie wiped away another tear. “They’re so cute. I wish I could have met them,” she said, sighing. “I wish a lot of things, but it wasn’t meant to be this time around.”

Somewhere in the house, the grandfather clock that had been a Christmas present for their mother began to chime. The air around them changed, and Casey knew then it was time to say goodbye again. 

“It’s not goodbye,” Lizzie said, pulling her sister into a hug. “We will see each other soon,” she whispered. “But now you must go back. Thank you again,” Lizzie’s words echoed around Casey as the air shifted around and around, before the blackness took over.

+

Days passed in the same way as they had the moment she arrived in the care home. Family visited, sometimes briefly, sometimes until the nurses kicked them out. Casey watched as rain and snow competed for dominance outside her window as the news informed her it was officially winter, and on the path for being the coldest one yet in sixty years. This made her reminisce of being young and broke in a crappy one bedroom campus apartment as a newlywed, bickering about the heating bill with her husband and buying Christmas presents at the supermarket with coupons so they could afford a nice bottle of wine for once. 

It felt like the worst days at the time, but now in hindsight she could see they were some of the happiest of her life. When their finances got better, when the success came, and the student loans disappeared, and their housing got bigger until they could purchase a comfortable home in a nice neighborhood, Casey would always think of the first few years of being married fondly. 

She found herself escaping to those years in her dreams, eager to see _him_ again, to have simple candle lit dinners and making blanket forts because the power went out due to a snowstorm. Sleep became preferable to living, because in sleep she found that the pain of old age disappeared, and the carefree days of the past alive. 

She lay back on the fountain's flat ledge, the stars mesmerizing. The fragrance of the garden offered comfort as the cool air caressed her skin. She inhaled deeply, a whiff of an achingly familiar scent hitting her senses cruelly. It smelled so strong, the scent; she could cry from the frustration the scent gave her, for she wanted nothing more to be wrapped up in the owner of the cologne she could smell. But when her eyes opened in hope, disappointment crushed down, for no one was patiently beside her waiting to be noticed. 

She sniffed, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks as she struggled to fight loneliness creeping up on her. This beautiful garden was meant to be a refuge. She closed her eyes as the scent became ever more powerful. A breeze passed her, almost as if hovering above her face in hesitation. Perhaps she could open her eyes, she mused, but then it would be just further disappointment. She already knew she was alone in this peaceful paradise. 

So Casey kept her eyes closed, even when the lightest of touches pressed against her forehead. 

+

Someone had put a little Christmas tree up in the corner of her room at the care home, with all of her favorite ornaments and fairy lights, the nurse informed her when she finally opened her eyes. 

“Your family was here, decorating yesterday. They even brought you a new jersey for you wall,” the nurse said, pointing it out. 

“Lovely,” Casey whispered, squinting to see it clearly. Her glasses were on the bedside table, but she felt too tired to make the effort to reach for them. 

“Do you want the tv on?” The nurse asked, carefully placing the glasses on Casey’s face for her. “We can put on an old favorite perhaps?”

Casey nodded, watching as the nurse put on the tv and found a channel with Christmas movies playing. 

“Looks like Love Actually is on, followed by the Holiday. Is that okay?” It was more than fine, so the nurse fluffed her pillows and placed an extra blanket over her. Outside the window snow fell from the sky, the snowflakes melting when they hit the glass. It felt cozy inside her small room. The nurse left the door slightly ajar when she left to head back out to the nurse station; sounds of other residents moving around and children visiting grandparents and all the other noise that a residential hospice produced drifted in.

Casey didn’t mind though; she had watched Love Actually around the holidays every year since she first saw it with Nora and Lizzie the winter her parents officially split up. It was a tradition that never stopped, especially when life became challenging. The fashion was terribly outdated, the quality of the film no longer crisp but Casey didn’t care. Every time she watched it, she felt young again and like the world was still for the taking, and not like the world had taken from her. 

She leaned against the pillows, letting herself get swept up by the familiar storyline and the cheesy dialogue. Sometime between one of the characters learning Portuguese and another discovering a Joni Mitchell cd, she fell asleep.

+

“You always did like this movie,” a teasing voice said when Casey blinked away the sleep from her eyes a short while later. “Every Christmas time, without fail, we watched it. I think I could perform it word to word, it’s so seared into my brain.”

Derek sat in the chair beside her, looking unfairly gorgeous and young compared to her white hair and wrinkled skin. His eyes were on the movie, as the prime minister knocked on each door in London in search of his love. Casey took in the sight of him, her eyes thirsty and desperate to see him. He was wearing faded jeans, a band t-shirt she remembered from their college days, and the same leather jacket he wore religiously for decades until it finally fell apart, though Casey still held on to it because it hurt to even think of throwing it out when she found it in the back of his closet.

He noticed her looking, giving her a sly smile that still made her heart thump after all these years. 

“Like what you see?” He winked, taking her hand and interlacing it with his. His fingers brushed her skin like she was a precious treasure, his thumb following the veins that decorated her skin. “I know that I do,” he said in a more serious tone, taking his other hand and pushing back some of her hair away from her eyes. “You’re pretty cute, McDonald. Even as a great-nana.”

“Der-ek,” she rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her joy. “What are you doing here?”

“You’ve been taking too long,” he complained. “I’ve been waiting for you at our house, with the dogs and the cats, and I even made you those sandwiches, but then Nora stopped by and I just couldn’t interrupt, you were having such a much needed moment.” He shook his head in mock disappointment. "I even found you in the garden at night, but you were stubborn and didn't open your eyes. So I stood there, surrounded by the beautiful flowers and the luminous moon, awed by you. Everything pales compared to you; it always has, Case."

“Derek,” Casey whispered, squeezing his hand. “You’re so sweet.”

“Stop it, I’ll blush,” Derek said, squeezing her hand back. “I’ve been very patient y’know, Spacey. Time has moved differently for me since I passed, but I’ve been watching over you every single day, waiting until I could take you home.”

“I’ve missed you so much,” Casey admitted, sitting up straighter in bed and looking him in the eyes. “It’s been a long decade and a half without you beside me. I never really realized how much of my life was shaped by you until I had to wake up alone, without you hogging the blanket or leaving your shoes in a pile by the door.”

He smiled fondly, leaning forward and kissing her forehead. “Well, come on then, Case,” he said, standing up and pulling her into his arms for a tight hug. She inhaled his cologne like it was the sweetest flower in her garden, the warmth and realness of his arms making her feel alive, truly alive, for the first time since he left her to deal with the physical world alone. 

Faintly, in the background, she could hear the dim sound of a beep and the rush of nurses around them, her frail body peacefully resting in the hospital bed. But everything that wasn’t Derek remained out of focus as she let him lead her out the room door, stepping into the garden of their backyard of several decades. 

Only then did the world light up in technicolor, the brightest and deepest shades giving her eyes a feast to look upon. Dogs and cats, all of them they ever had, came running up to Casey in excitement, tails wagging and barks barking and purrings purring. She bent down to pet Molly, the dog of their children’s childhood, and noticed the wrinkled veins of her hands had smoothed out, and that her knees didn’t hurt to bend so. 

Derek watched her with the sincerest look of love that it made her giddy. He took her hand after she finally greeted every single one of their pets, kissing it with the slightest brush of his lips before leading her further into the garden. 

“Everyone is waiting for you,” he said, pausing before turning around the corner. He grinned at her mischievously and suddenly she felt nineteen again, staring up at him in wonder that he wanted her as much she wanted him. “But,” he kissed her, slow and passionate as if they could make their family wait on them forever. “I don’t want to share you just yet. Not when I have you back in my arms again.”

“Der-ek,” she playfully said as his hands began to trail down the sides of her body before securely taking hold of her hips. “We have all the time in the world to uh,” she paused, briefly distracted by the feel of his lips on her neck, in the spot that he knew made her weak. “Get reacquainted...”

He laughed, his breath tickling her skin and sending thrills down her spine. “Thats such an old lady way to say have sex again,” he nipped her collarbone with his teeth before pressing a kiss to sooth the redness. 

“I am an ol, old la-dy,” she stuttered before he found her lips again and captured them with his own. She let him back her against the nearest maple tree, enjoying the feel of him in contrast to the tree bark behind her. She could have stayed there for eternity, enjoying the way it felt unrushed and familiar and new all at once. All of her senses felt aglow, everything more intense then she could remember feeling ever in her long life. 

“You’re the hottest old lady I’ve ever seen,” Derek briefly hovered over her lips, smirking when she let out a little whine of protest. “And the horniest, which is also super hot.”

“Der-ek,” she hit his chest lightly, failing to hide her amusement. 

“God I missed hearing you say that,” he said, dodging another playful slap away before she surged forward, biting his lip and tugging him closer.

Eventually, voices interrupted their private moment behind the maple tree. 

“Surely they’re supposed to be here by now,” Nora’s worried voice drifted from further in the garden. 

“It’s Derek and Casey, they’re probably making us wait by accident,” a different voice, Edwin’s, pitched in. He sounded a lot closer. “I’m willing to bet they got caught up in each other.”

“Edwin,” George’s voice warned. “We don’t need to think of that, thank you.”

“They have three kids, it’s not some secret,” Edwin grumbled. “Married for nearly sixty years, beating us all. Aren’t we all passed the squeamish part of them being together by now - oof, hey Lizzie that hurt!”

“What, I didn’t throw it at him!”

“Well who did, the dog?!”

Casey and Derek looked at each other, silently laughing before Derek sighed dramatically. “I guess that’s all I get for now,” he stepped back, running a hand through his hair. He smoothed Casey’s hair too, helping her straighten her clothes. She noticed only then her outfit, an old favorite dress of hers that had been lost to time. 

“Time to share me,” she said, grabbing his hand. “We’ll get back to this later, promise.”

“Sooner than later,” Derek let her lead them from behind the tree, heading towards the voices. “But first, let’s welcome you properly.” He swept down, lifting her up bridal style. She laughed joyfully, wrapping her arms around his neck as he carried her to their waiting family members, taking her home.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you.. did you make it through this one okay?! Love you all. Let me know your thoughts <3


End file.
